Son of the Sea God
by Casual Aardvark
Summary: After the battle between All Might and One for All, the city of Mustafu was left in ruins. Gangs thrived on the mangled remains of the city, crime was at an all time high, and the heroes were slowly losing the battle. How does Izuku, an inexperienced boy, factor into the equation? (Izuku with Percy Jackson powers!)
1. Origins 1-01

**Author's Note: Not a Percy Jackson crossover. In fact, the Percy Jackson elements will be kept to a minimum, almost non-existent, after the first two chapters. Enjoy!**

Origins 1.01: Field Trip Fiascos

I was going crazy. I had to be. There was no other explanation for these... delusions haunting me over the past thirty minutes since our class entered the museum. It was subtle at first. Portraits of ancient gods following me with their lifeless eyes, Greek symbols aligning to form coherent sentences, and the fountain we passed by started rippling for no reason.

Nothing too conspicuous. I almost dismissed them, until I saw the tour guide holding an "I Love Tokyo" mug and wearing a Nirvana shirt underneath a plaid jacket. She glared at me with demonic, red eyes; slitted and predatory.

At first I thought she had a transformation type quirk -which was fine- so I didn't thought much about her looks. She was kinda pretty, but a decade too old for me. No, what bothered me was no one else seemed to notice her. At one point, she stood in between two girls talking to each other, both giving no reaction to her presence, while staring at me in the eye with a hungry expression. Not the hot kind.

Maybe I was just making a big deal out of nothing. After all, my classmates had the attention span similar to my coked up stepfather -or a goldfish, if I wanted to insult an entire species of fish.

I looked around the group and tried searching for our english teacher, Mr. Brunner. Maybe he could do something. He was a brown haired, middle aged man who looked like he spent his free time drinking at a bar while worrying about losing his job. With the economic depression in Japan, the concern was more than understandable.

I raised my hand. Mr. Brunner walked towards me with a limp. The clopping of his prosthetic legs echoed in the wide circular room. He didn't notice the tour guide.

"Is there a problem, Midoriya?" He asked with a concerned tone, "You look a bit pale."

"I need to go to the washroom." I shifted, giving a subtle glance to the demon lady. She met my eyes and gave me a sadistic smile with her sharp fangs poking out her mouth. My skin crawled and I felt an ominous chill. I had to get away!

"Take your time. If you're not here in five minutes, we'll meet at the front entrance."

I nodded and broke into a half run, following the signs to the nearest washroom. I saw the tour guide weave her way out of the group. Shit! Something was definitely going on! Was this a practical joke? I wasn't bullied or anything -hell, most people just tend to ignore me so a prank would be out of the picture.

I made a sharp left to the hallway where the washrooms were. I opened the door to the men's room, but instead of going inside, I let the door close to create a thud and continued my way down the hall. Time was running out. I only had a few seconds left before she caught up with me, so I rushed to a hole on the wall and hid between the small space of the water fountain. It wasn't a good hiding place by any means, but the shadow covered my body well enough. This should do.

I closed my eyes, waiting. I heard footsteps walking down the hall, entering the washroom. Few seconds passed, she exited the washroom and walked to the next, confirming my suspicions. She was definitely searching for me.

Silence. I felt my breath hitch in my throat, amplifying my urge to heave. Still, I held my breath, clamping my mouth to prevent the air from escaping. _Thud. thud._ My heart pounded against my chest. I swear it was louder than a marching band, and I was afraid she would hear it across the halls.

The washroom door opened again and the lady came out. The pattering of her steps were getting fainter; diminishing into the background before completely disappearing. I released my breath with a cathartic sigh and my body relax as the tension seeped out. I sat there a few seconds to make sure she was gone.

"Found you."

My scream was cut off by talons wrapped around my neck. I felt her claws digging a cavity into my throat as she lifted me up into the air. I tried yelling profanities, but only gurgling noises came out with the blood pooling in my mouth.

She held me in front of her. Her face had transform into a weird abomination of a bat and an ugly librarian combined. She had aged too. The twenty year old lady was replaced by an old hag with loose, flaky skin and wrinkled features.

"Now, which naughty god broke The Pact? Apollo? No, you're hair's a bit too dark. Or Hades? He was always the romantic one," She leaned forward and sniffed, then clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth with a _tututut_. Her mouth quirked up like she finally got the joke.

"Forgive me, son of Poseidon" she whispered with almost believable regret, "I'm just doing this to save the world from a premature end. Don't worry, once I'm done, you and I can be friends in the Underworld."

She slammed me into the metal nozzle of the water fountain. I felt the cold metal lodging itself into my forehead and the searing pain that followed a few seconds after. I was going to die. My vision became blurry and my body went cold. I lost control of my basic motor functions, my legs started to spasm and my fingers twitched.

I laughed. Tears welled in the corner of my eyes as I continued to cough up the blood in my futile attempts of laughter. Hilarious. I was on the verge of death, and the life flashing before my eyes was nothing but a reminder of how shitty it was. A life without friends. A life without a father. A life without fulfillment.

And most of all, it was a life that never amounted to anything.

My body went limp, feeling oddly relaxed despite the situation. It was not peace I felt. It was acceptance and surrender. I was simply tired of fighting a battle destined to end up in defeat. Dying doesn't sound too bad. Wasn't it like sleep? Sleep was nice. Comforting.

 _Are you gonna give up and do nothing again?_ I heard my voice echo in my head. _When are you gonna stop pitying yourself and take responsibility for your life._

Those were the words I didn't want to acknowledge; the truth I didn't want to hear. I knew I could've fought back. Even when Bakugo bullied me or when my stepfather yelled at me, I could've done something instead of rolling over and taking the abuse. Instead, I did nothing. I ended up becoming a slave to fear and self pity. Thus, as my life faded to a mere cinder, I clung to that truth with desperation, hoping I would get another chance to live the way I wanted to and have some semblance of _control_.

 _I'm not going to die! Not yet!_

With newfound strength, I pried the talons off my throat and let out a guttural scream. I felt a tug in my gut. I heard pipes creaking. The metal encasing of the water fountain crumpled and the concrete walls dribbled before forming web-like cracks. The demon's eyes widen. A cold geyser erupted from the wall, sending the both of us flying to the opposite side, about ten feet away.

The impact jarred me awake. The demon struggled to get up from the floor, spluttering and slipping on the wet marbled tiles. Before she managed to regain balance, I pinned her down to prevent her from escaping. I finally had the upper hand for once. It felt amazing. For a second, I understood how Bakugo felt.

I raised my fists and hammered her face with a two handed blow. I was stronger and reinvigorated; my previous wounds and aches were magically healed. I continued my assault, raining a flurry of fists into her leathery, disgrace of a face. My fists started to hurt, but I didn't care. Thick golden blood gushed from the gashes of her mouth, staining my black hoodie with golden streaks.

She wasn't human. People with quirks, no matter how monstrous they seemed, all bleed the same colour.

 _God, I hope this comes off._

"Saving the world, huh?" I punctuated my words with a punch, "That's some big talk from someone who can't even save themselves from a fucking, quirkless kid."

When I thought she about to surrender, she caught my fist and hurled me to the air. I landed about ten meters away from her and my knees slammed on the tiles. I tried standing up but the impact was worse than I expected. I grabbed the wall to balance myself and started limping away from the demon lady. _Abort! I should've ran!_

Unfortunately, the demon lady managed to get herself together. With a primal screech, she unfurled her draconic wings and flew to the air at my direction. Fast! She covered half the space between us in a blink.

"Midoriya!" I heard a deep, gravelly voice call to me. Mr. Brunner? "Catch!"

Before I got the chance to tell him to run away, I saw a small, narrow object fly towards me at a frightening speed. I caught it with my right hand and gave the object a quick glance. _A pen?_

No, it wasn't just a pen. I felt a roar inside, swirling eddies of monstrous energy, urging me to pull the cap off and unleash it from the confines of the pen. I even saw snippets of memories from its past wielders. Stories of love, betrayal, hardships, and glory.

The demon was right in front of me, claws lifted for the finishing blow. With my eyes close, I took the cap off and threw a blind swing at her direction. A hail mary unlike any other, relying on nothing but pure chance and instinct. I felt dust particles, almost like sand, caress my face. The shriek was cut off and was consumed by an eerie silence that seemed deafening in comparison to the transpired chaos.

When I opened my eyes, I saw no traces of the demon lady except for the pile of golden sand on the floor. I stared at my hand. _Oh, it's a sword. Of course it is. What else could it be?_

I shuddered and my knees gave out on me. I dropped the golden sword and the clatter resounded on the empty hall. My hands jittered and the tears of frustration welling inside me trickled down my face.

Clopping. Slowly approaching. They stopped behind me, casting an unnaturally large shadow on my probably pathetic figure sprawled on the floor.

"Midoriya, child."

I felt something cold -smooth like polished stone- touch my shoulder, but I ignored it given how numb I was. I almost died. Granting, it wouldn't be much of a tragedy to leave behind such a miserable life, but still... the reminder of my fragileness woke me up from my fifteen years of inaction. I was almost _thankful_ for the demon lady.

I took a few, shaky breaths to regain my composure. I stood up, with my back straight, ignoring the weight of my insecurities and past failures. I was starting anew. No more self pity. No more running away from my issues.

And there was no better issue to start with than the large centaur in the room. _Centaur_ , not elephant, I mused as I marvelled at the sight of Mr Brunner's equestrian glory.

* * *

The bus ride home left me in a daze. I just murdered someone in cold blood and what bothered me the most was not the act itself, but the lack of guilt I felt. Was I in shock? Maybe. But my mind was mostly preoccupied with my newfound quirk. The sensation was migraine-inducing, to say the least.

Imagine being suddenly aware of every water molecule within a hundred meter radius. When I closed my eyes and concentrated, I saw the world in binary: the positive space where water existed and the negative space signifying objects lacking water. This facet of my quirk allowed me to have unparalleled awareness of my surroundings. I was almost omniscient within my sphere.

I was sitting next to Mr. Brunner, under the pretense of 'misbehaviour.' Which was fair, since murdering a tour guide is probably up there on the naughty list. He was silent, ignoring my questions about the trip. I saw him tapping his foot with a frantic rhythm, exhaling through the nose with shaky breaths. He was scared.

Without anything to do, I decided to "observe" Mr. Brunner. Suffice to say, he was more... intricate than he let on. Using my patented _watersense_ , I was able to see the inside of his prosthetic legs, which contained the bottom half of a horse folded into a compact flesh origami. Fascinating, albeit disturbing.

"Sooo..." I stretched my vowels while whispering. "about your legs."

"What's wrong?" He raised a casual eyebrow like I was asking him a dumb question.

"Everything! You have half a horse inside... whatever those are," I pointed to his prosthetics, "How the hell does that even work?"

"Ah." He realized my conundrum, "A friend of mine made it for me. He specialized in spacial magic, for lack of a better term."

"Magic? You mean, quirk?"

"No. Magic," He said wistfully, "I'll explain it to you later."

The silence between us grew. Mr. Brunner stared blankly at the buildings outside the window instead of continuing our conversation.

When we got back to Mustafu High School, the bearded teacher told me to follow him to his car. I was too tired to ask where we were going, so I plopped on the comfy leather seat without a complaint and watched him fumble his car keys while muttering curses in Latin. He was a fast driver; dangerously so. Buildings blurred by in a dull streak of grays and browns, progressively getting smaller and smaller as we got close to the borders of The Bubble.

Downtown Mustafu, a.k.a. The Bubble, was the only area salvageable from the battle between All Might and One for All. The rest of the city, about a good three quarters, was dying slowly. If not dead. To make things worse, the three major gangs occupied the mangled corpse of the city, letting it fester with crimes and lawlessness.

First, there was The League of Villains, the psychos and human trash of society. Their goal was to dissolve the government of Mustafu, but there was little to no info about them except for their sporadic attacks on The Bubble.

Then there was The Reformist, the immoral idealists. Formed by the Hero-Killer Stain, they amassed a large, cult-like following with the sole purpose of creating 'perfect' heroes while getting rid of the 'unfit' ones. They've had a kill count of twelve heroes.

Finally, there was the Villain Factory, the opportunists. They were subtle with their operations, but accounted for most of the city's drug trafficking after their merger with the Yakuza. Perhaps, out of the three, the Factory was the richest, the most politically influential, and-

 _Why the hell does he know where I live?_ My thoughts were interrupted as Mr. Brunner slowed down and parked his car in front of our shabby, apartment complex.

"Umm, Mr. Brunner." I shifted, uncomfortable.

"Call me Chiron, lad."

"Mr. Chiron, sir," I snarked, "Why are we at my house? Or better yet, why do you know where I live?" My voice carried a slight edge to it despite wanting to be respectful to him. He was my favorite teacher in school -always patient with me despite my dyslexia- thus, I valued our amicable relationship. Even so, I valued my privacy more.

"I visit your mother from time to time," his mouth quirked with mischief, "for academic purposes, of course."

"Haha, how mature of you," I rolled my eyes in exasperation while fishing for the house keys in my pocket. "Although, even if you have a terrible sense of humor and an even worse sense of fashion, I wouldn't mind having you as a stepdad."

"And why is that?"

I pondered on the question as we stepped outside the car and made our way to my house. I stopped in front of the door, reluctant to enter. I didn't want to see my stepdad this early.

"Because you're a decent person," I answered, inserting the key into the hole, "and that makes you better than most people I know."

The lock opened with a click and the rotting door swung open with a shrill squeak.

I was home.


	2. Origins 1-02

**Author's Note: I was reading the latest chapter of MHA the other day and all I could think was, "Damn, Horikoshi's really made OFA a cheat code. Midoriya lucked out lol." However, this development also throws a wrench at my story because I don't want to make Midoriya too OP, so I decided to give OFA to someone else. Doesn't mean Midoriya won't get it later on.**

Origins 1.02: U.A., Here I Come!

Every time I entered the house, the first thing that hits me was the smell. Then my stepfather, but that was a totally different case. Although the usual scents were often pinewood and a variation of cheap beers, today was different. My mother was home early so we were instead greeted by the flavorful aroma of a half finished home cooked meal. Katsudon. My favorite.

I also noticed more things than usual, thanks to my newfound senses. There was a family of twelve rats living in the attic, the water filter in the furnace was leaking, and the wooden pillars supporting the house was in danger of falling apart thanks to termites and fungi. Didn't need a quirk to figure out the last one.

But there were some good things too. For one, my stepfather was nowhere in the vicinity, hence the house was cleaner than usual. I also sensed my mother cooking in the kitchen with her fast motions creating disturbances in the air. She didn't seem exhausted, which was rare. Usually when she came home, she just sat on the worn out couch, dazed and dreary, while drinking a cup of the darkest coffee. I hated how broken she looked sometimes.

"Welcome home, Izuku," she greeted while chopping green onions on the kitchen isle. I guess she must've heard me enter the house or something. She was facing slightly perpendicular from the entrance, however, so she didn't notice the gruff, bearded figure behind me.

"Hi mom. How was work?" I asked. I sometimes wondered why I did, given how repetitive our lives seemed to be. Work sucked, school was okay, and the traffic was a hindrance as always. Even so, I always found comfort in the routines and small gestures. They provided normality in a world slowly descending into madness.

"You wouldn't believe how rude the customers were," her voice had a tinge of annoyance, "I was doing cashier work, right? And this old man comes up to me and..."

She turned around and saw Chiron. Her voice trailed off and her smile faded.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Midoriya." Chiron greeted with a grim nod.

"Chiron-san, what're you doing here?" Her expression changed between concern, guilt, and fear, mirroring those of Chiron's, but more obvious. She looked at me and her expression darkened.

Dropping her knife on the table, she walked with an agitated gait and grabbed my cheeks with her palms, causing me to pucker up like those gyarus you saw on social media. I tried wiggling out of her grip, but the effort was futile. Sometimes I wondered if she had a hidden quirk. Super strength? Super hearing? Super Intuition? Most mothers I knew had a variation of the three.

She brushed the hair covering my forehead, her fingers traversing the area above my right eyebrow.

"Oh..." She gasped. She turned to Chiron; her growing anger was etched on her face with a sharp frown.

"You told me you wouldn't let this happen," she said, her voice dangerously low, "So why on earth is my child coming home from school with huge scars on his throat and forehead?"

 _Scars?_ It took me a second to realize what she meant, my mind flashing back to the events of earlier.

I caressed my forehead and felt a nasty scar just above my right eyebrow. I lowered my fingers to my neck and felt another three where the talons pierced through.

Chiron's jaw clenched. He stood there for a moment, guilt palpable from his posture, contemplating how to frame the situation in the best possible light and avoid dealing with my mother's wrath.  
"I am sorry for breaking the contract," he started, "But I didn't know a monster was-."

"I don't want to hear your lousy excuse," mom hissed with a wavering voice, "This isn't about the contract. It's about you being incompetent in your job and letting my kid get hurt!"

"I'm trying! I definitely tried!" he brushed his hair with his hands, grabbing them in frustration, "You think I can juggle thirty annoying twats and their pubescent hormones without messing up once?"

"You should've noticed!"

"I did! And your boy came out fine!"

"This is what you call fine?" She pointed at me, "He looks like he got attacked by a bear!"

"Can someone," I raised my voice to be heard over their argument, "please explain what the hell is going on! Cus I swear to god, the two of you have more secrets than a knitting circle."

Both of them came to their senses and stared at me like I popped out of thin air.

"Honey," mom's expression softened, "there's no such thing as secrets in a knitting circle. Also, watch your tongue."

"Stop avoiding the question, mom," I said bitterly. I was tired of her keeping secrets. She never told me anything about dad or why she remarried to the worst person I've met. Now this?

"Alright," She conceded with a weak voice. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, more so than usual, and her eyes skimmed the floor, trying to look at everything but the expression on my face. "How much do you know?"

"Not much. Random terms like contacts, pacts, and synonyms of the like," I shrugged, "The fact I have a quirk."

I left out the part about my father being a Greek god because it was too crazy to fathom even after the events of today.

"Okay. I'll start from the beginning," my mom let out a sigh and a shudder, "But this might take a while, so take a seat. Want tea?"

I nodded and Chiron declined.

"No thank you, I'll be leaving soon."

She returned to her kitchen workspace, pulling out a kettle from a cupboard. Chiron and I sat on opposite ends of the cheap round table and he stared at his clasped hands with tired eyes. Figuring out he wasn't going to talk, I watched my mom fill the kettle with water, placing it atop a gaslit stove. She went back to the dining area and sat down on the chair beside me. She cleared her throat.

"The stories we tell of the ancient greek gods," she began, "are not so much myths but history."

She stopped, allowing me to process the absurd statement. Even after I got over my shock, I still had a hard time believing her.

 _But the demon lady evaporating into dust? A golden sword sprouting from a dollar store pen? Chiron giving the middle finger to common sense with his foldable horse legs?_ Such things were impossible and broke every conceivable scientific laws I knew.

 _Magic_ , I heard a voice inside my head, sounding a lot like a certain centaur.

"With how much they're hiding, they might as well be myths," Chiron mumbled.

"Yeah," my mom agreed with a solemn gaze, "Your father was one of them. Poseidon. God of the seas."

"I see," I nodded, lost for words, "Well, that explains why he was never here. Godly duties must be loads of work." I gave a weak, sardonic laugh.

"There's a reason why, Izuku," she murmured, almost defensive. I knew she still loved him, with the way she talked about dad on the rare nights she drank near the fireplace. I saw it in her eyes, the way she blushed when she told the story of their first meeting.

"Let me guess. He got lost on the way to buy cigarettes," I joked, trying to hide the hurt and contempt brewing inside my stomach. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. I hid them under the table.

"No, it's nothing like that," she shook her head in disagreement, "It was because of The Pact, Izuku. The agreement to never again interact with the mortal world and lock all monsters in the underworld. The one you met probably sneaked her way out."

I had a million question I wanted to ask, but my voice betrayed me, so I settled for the simplest one.

"Why?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"They're afraid of quirks and how powerful humans can become."

"That doesn't make sense! They're gods!" I threw my hands in the air, "They should be able to handle a bunch of humans."

Mom shook her head again. She looked like she was trying her best to remain patient and calm.

"All Might, at his prime, was just a bit weaker than Ares." she explained, "Imagine what would happen if a demigod, a being not bound by divine laws, were to gain such a powerful quirk and abuse their powers?"

"The Battle of Mustafu would look like a playground quarrel," Chiron scoffed.

Both of them went silent, their eyes pondering on the hypothetical horrors. As for me, I couldn't fathom Chiron's remark. The Battle of Mustafu was regarded as one of Japan's biggest tragedies. About seventy percent of the city was lost and a thousand more lives were gone along with it. If that battle was a petty quarrel... then I wouldn't want to know the scenario they were imagining.

"The gods were so afraid of this happening, t-they..." my mom's voice cracked and tears welled in her eyes, "...killed their children." The kettle started to boil in the background, the shrill whistle from the rising steam matched the fury I felt inside. "One by one. In their sleeps."

The more I heard of these gods, the more repulsed I became. I felt a lump in my throat. There was a pregnant pause in the conversation and beneath the silence was the underlying question everyone was afraid to ask.

"W-why am I alive?" I croaked, forcing the question out of my throat.

"Because you're quirkless. I convinced him you weren't a threat to the gods," her eyes was distant, as if remembering an unpleasant memory. I, on the other hand, almost laughed at the irony. Turns out, the reason why I'm alive was also the reason why my life sucked. Go figure.

"Poseidon decided to spare you. He placed a seal to your powers, only breaking when you're in life or death situation," she grimaced. Her expression grew softer and she gave me a warm smile, "So here you are, alive and well. You've grown into a decent person... despite our circumstances."

I closed my eyes. My eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"So what now?" I asked to no one in particular. I wasn't sure what to do with the information. Gods were real, monsters were real, and my birth was a typo in the grand scheme of things. Was I just going to be hunted for the rest of my life? No. I had a quirk - or powers, whatever you wanna call it. I had to be a hero -monsters and gods be damned- and make use of the chance I've been given.

"We need to transfer you to a place with a lot of strong quirks; a place where monsters won't be able to find you. I can probably get you into U.A." Chiron suggested, speaking up from his silence. I gaped at him, baffled, like he grew an extra head. "It's the least I can do."

I couldn't believe it. Was this the universe's way to repay all the shit they've given me? It was just too... convenient. Too easy.

"No," I rejected the offer, "It's too expensive and too far away. Going there is too much of a burden for my mom. I could settle for a cheaper one."

"Don't worry bout the expenses," Chiron flashed a mischievous grin, "Since Mustafu High School is a well respected school, I can use your scholarship and remarkable grades to leverage a scholarship in U.A.

"But my English grades are terrible!"

"Nothing your sweet english teacher can't fix. I just have to pull a few strings and there," He winked, "As for the travel time... bah, that's a non-issue. U.A. has a lot of empty dorm rooms I can sneak you in."

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I was a mess. I was so used to getting the short end of the stick, I didn't know how to react when life decided to drop a pot of gold in front of me. Should I be happy? I probably should, but the better half of me -the one broken by time- was afraid, thinking there was a cruel trick or a catch behind the metaphorical pot of gold.

"I... I don't know how to repay you," I stuttered.

Chiron gave me a fatherly smile.

"You don't owe me anything," he said, "And if you really want to thank me, then here's what you should do. Forget about the gods, the monsters, and everything you know about the divine realm -hell, even me! As far as you're concerned, that world does not exist."

He stood up from his seat and placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

"This is your story, boy. Make the most of it."

He adjusted his coat and made his way out of the kitchen. I followed him down the hall and to the front door. His hand rested on the door knob, but he didn't make any effort to open it. He turned around and looked at me once more.

"Farewell, Midoriya," his eyes glimmered with sadness, "I hope we never see each other again."

I smiled.

"Me too."

I watched him make his way to the car before another question popped in my head.

"Mr. Chiron!" I called out. "What do I do with the sword?"

"Keep it," he answered, "It doesn't work on mortals so the worst you can do is property damage."

"And if I accidentally use it on a demigod?" I voiced out my main concern -which he shrugged at with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

"Then you're doing the gods a favour."

* * *

I spent the whole week training and if I were to sum up my powers in a few words, I would settle for "Japanese Nightmare Fuel." Based off what I knew about Greek mythology, Poseidon was the bringer of earthquakes and tsunamis. Him being my dad meant my powers were a subset of his, which probably won't be PR friendly in a country stricken with those natural disasters.

I was a hydrokinetic, to start off, and a very powerful one. I can manipulate water within a hundred meter radius with inhuman precision. Solidifying water? Trivial. Changing the water's temperature? Bit of a headache, but manageable. Blasting a large hole on a refrigerator with a water cannon? Easy money.

I could also generate tremors. The easiest way to use this power was through touch, but I've managed to produce a small shockwave by stomping my foot. However, this power was less intuitive, so it required hours of practice to see noticeable improvements. So far, I've only been able to break glass cups and topple unsteady objects on the table. Cool, but lacking in utility.

If there was another way to describe my powers, I would settle for "convenient as hell". I've been using them for almost every occasion now. I used water to open doors and lift objects from far away. I even tried using water to write, wrapping a tiny stream around the pencil and guiding it with my mind. It was kinda like discount telekinesis, but it worked so I wasn't complaining.

But the most convenient aspect about my power was the ability to heal.

Imagine this. You've trained for an hour straight, none stop, and your body could no longer move due to exhaustion. Most people would drink a bottle of protein shake or whatever and call it a day. Not me. I would simply lie down on a body of water, let my body fix itself, and do my workout all over again. Fresh as new.

I started with a ten mile jog from my home to Dagobah Municipal Beach Park, a hundred squats, a hundred pushups, and heavy lifting of trash scattered across the beach. There was a reason why it was called the dumpster capital of Japan. Used to, at least. Now, thanks to me being an upstanding citizen, I was proud to say the beach was cleaner than my room.

 _I really need to clean my room._ I thought while carrying a refrigerator over my head.

With a stifled grunt, I threw it on the pile of trash I accumulated over the week. I was shirtless. Sweat dripped over my newly acquired abs down to my workout shorts, as I panted while clutching my knees. Once I've caught my breath, I sat down on the sand, toes touching the water, and basked on the relaxing sensation of my body fixing itself. I sighed in contentment, while watching the sunset paint the sky with a pinkish hue.

 _I've been doing this for a week, but it never ceased to be beautiful._

I took a few more minutes of healing and admiring the view before bidding my goodbyes to the beach. Halfway to where the beach met the wayside, a thought popped in my head, causing me stop on my tracks. I grinned.

 _Might as well leave a parting gift._

I turned around with my arms stretched out and willed a hundred foot geyser to erupt from the ocean, spraying thousand of litres of salt water into the sky. The geyser crashed with a loud bang, creating foam and a sizable amount of mist upon impact. A rainbow formed where the sun touched the mist, making the scenery even more beautiful than it once was.

 _God, I'm such a showoff._ I admired the colorful spectacle, _A fabulous one, at that._

I ran away before the heroes could apprehend me for illegal quirk use.

* * *

After a thirty minute jog, I returned home. Excited. Chiron emailed me two days ago saying the letter would arrive today. I entered the door, looking at the floor where the mails usually dropped by, with an excited grin on my face.

Nothing. There were no mails or packages lying around.

I heard a someone clear their throat. I looked up and found my stepfather by the hall, holding a letter with the U.A. logo. It was almost poetic. My disgusting past holding my future for ransom.

"U.A., huh?" he fanned the letter in front of me, "This shit's crazy expensive, you know. Sure, all dem rich kids could afford it, but you? You think I'll send your weak ass there just to fail?"

"I'm on a scholarship, Gabe," I said, keeping my voice composed, "It means I don't have to pay."

"You think I'm retarded? I know what a fucking scholarship is," he mumbled with a drunken slur, "But you're still not gonna go cus it's a waste of time. I'm gonna do ya a favor and throw this out, and while I'm at it, go get me a beer and be useful for once."

I couldn't believe it. Why was he so against the idea of me going to U.A., despite my scholarship? It wasn't like he loved me and he didn't want to see me leave. If anything, it was the opposite. He told me he wanted me gone as soon as possible. _Why?_

I suddenly realized the answer as I studied his hunched up figure walking to the couch.

"You're pathetic."

He paused in his tracks.

"What did'ya just say to me?"

"I figured you out," I enunciated my words like I was talking to a dim witted child, "You're the type of person who can't stand it when others do well. You're so miserable you lash out and stop people from succeeding because you don't want to be alone in your miserable pit of failures.

"Say that again," he snarled, pointing a finger at me, "Say that again one more time and I'll make sure you never open your mouth again!"

My expression softened. I looked at him straight in the eyes, not with an angry glare but with a gentle smile.

"You're pathetic," I repeated, my voice filled with pity. Despite how much I hated him, I felt sorry for him, knowing his life must've been sucked for him to end up this way.

I can empathize with him at a fundamental level.

Ever since I was young, I was obsessed with heroes. A hero worshipper, some would say. I had all the All Might figurines, posters, underwears, and whatever I could buy with my meager allowance. However, as time went on, I began to despise heroes. Even All Might. The flashy displays of their quirks rubbed me the wrong way and became a reminder of my quirklessness. I hated how happy they looked, living the dream I never could. In a way, Gabe and I were the same.

The only difference was, I learned to move on.

The pity in my voice made him snap. He swung his empty beer bottle at me and I watched it approach me in what felt like a hundred years. I could've easily dodged it, but didn't. I let the glass shatter on my head and watched the crystal fragments fly into a thousand pieces, each reflecting their own little ray of sunlight. The blow was painful. Warm blood dripped from my throbbing temples down to my cheeks. Some blood even got to my eye, but I stood there, unblinking. Unyielding.

Seeing I was still standing, showing no emotions, he screamed and threw a frustrated punch on the same spot. I caught his fist this time, and I squeezed it hard with every intention to break him.

His face contorted in pain and his knees buckled as I continued to twist his wrist while crushing his hand. I heard his bones pop as I dislocated his wrist from its socket. He started screaming and the shrill sound akin to a dying animal rang in my head. It was a sound I would never forget.

"Please," He whimpered. He was a hiccuping mess, half kneeling with his face full of tears. "P-Please stop."

With a deep breath, I let go. It was so tempting to go even further -kick him down or maybe knock a few teeth- but I had to let go and leave Gabe behind for good. For my own sake.

"Goodbye, Gabe," I stared down on his pathetic figure, "Get your own fucking beer from now on."

I ripped the letter from his hands and stormed to the washroom in the basement. I spent washing the blood and wounds off my head. After I was fully healed, I left the washroom and entered my room, which was only a bit bigger than a walk in closet.

Small, dark, and the roof was almost falling apart, but it was a space I could truly call my own. A refuge from reality.

With my hands shaking from adrenaline and excitement, I opened the letter.

Congratulations, Midoriya, it read on the upper right corner.

I didn't read the rest. I threw the letter on the bedside desk and ran to my drawer, digging into the depths of forgotten accessories and old toys. After a few minutes of searching, I found it. It was the same as I remembered. The cover was charred and the pages were wrinkled due to water exposure. On the front, the title was displayed in big bold letters and neat penmanship.

 **HERO ANALYSIS FOR THE FUTURE**.

"I missed you, buddy," I whispered.

* * *

 **More Author's Note:**

 **I'm developing a horizontal line addiction**

 **Lizards are better than Frogs (Fight me)**

 **No more Percy Jackson elements after this chapter. Hope you enjoyed the prologue!**


	3. Origins Interlude

**Author's Note: Had to rewrite this chapter since I wasn't happy with the first draft. Also, please let me know if the dialogue sounds unnatural or awkward. Feel free to criticize. Enjoy!**

 **Origins: Interlude**

Part I: Don't Tease me, Tokage-san!

It was the third monday of the school year. The morning buzz was a bit more high strung than usual and I picked up the little differences here and there. The students were a bit chattier for one, and the words "transfer student" could be heard every now and then, filling the air with either anticipation or indifference.

I was no exception. I tapped my foot in eager anticipation like a kid on Christmas eve waiting for the clock to chime twelve. It was always fun meeting new people and learning about their stories and quirks and the little things that made them who they were. Even if I didn't like a person, the new perspectives they bring were always refreshing.

"Good morning, Tokage-san," Yaoyorozu greeted from behind.

"Sup, Momo-chan," I winked at the uptight girl, "Y'look stunning today."

Her face flushed at the random compliment.

"Hey, hey!" Mina's bubbly voice called out, entering the room with energetic steps, practically skipping her way to our group, "Did you guys hear about the transfer student!"

"You mean the thing the whole class has been talking about since yesterday?" I asked in feigned surprised, "Nope, never heard of it."

"Don't be mean to her."

"Yeah! Stop being such a meanie!"

"What?" I complained, "Everyone knows about the transfer since yesterday. Her question was kinda redundant, you know?"

Yaoyorozu shook her head in disappointment and sat on the desk in front of me. I heard a loud, wistful sigh beside me.

"I hope they're a cute girl," Denki said with his cheeks resting on his fist. That was odd. He was usually a few minutes late to class everyday. Must've went early to see the new student.

"It's a boy." Mina corrected, "I heard it from Jirou."

"Nope. Definitely a girl," Mineta chimed in from five seats away, not even hiding the fact he was eavesdropping on us, "My twelve inched radar of mine told me so."

"Nice one," Denki snorted while Mina recoiled in disgust at the outward display of degeneracy. I just rolled my eyes in exasperation.

"Ew! Too much information, Mineta!"

"If he said three inches, would it be too little information?" I chided the pink girl with a half raised eyebrow.

"Not you too."

 _It's so fun to tease my cute classmates_ , I thought while giggling. Momo was the best of course, given how prude and insecure she was, but Mina was a close second. She was outgoing and bubbly, but she was sometimes fazed by innuendos and romantic gestures.

"How bout you, Tokage," Denki asked, "what do you think the new kid's gonna be like?"

"I don't really care as long as they're cute," I shrugged, "Although, I wouldn't mind having another Momo-chan to play with."

Momo, who was sitting two seats in front of me, glared at me with a frown.

"Boo. You're boring," Mina pouted.

The bell rung, signalling the start of homeroom. The students shuffled back to their seats at the sight of their lethargic, homeroom teacher, Aizawa-sensei. He dropped all his stuff without a care, leaving a messy pile of papers and stationeries scattered across his desk. He cleared his throat.

"As you all may have heard," he glared at Jirou who flinched at her seat, "we have a transfer student today. He's going to be here with us due to some circumstances, so please give him a warm welcome."

The teacher turned to the door. "Come in," he called out.

A few seconds later, the transfer student entered and walked to the front of the class.

He looked normal for the most part; green messy hair, a bit taller than average, and his good looks were hidden behind the lack of proper grooming. He was expressionless -a flat affect, some would say- and his body language was laidback, making him look somewhat approachable, albeit languid.

His eyes, however, told a different story. They were cold and calculating, darting from one person to the next like he was sizing everyone up and figuring the best way to bring them down in a fight. Then there was also the nasty scars on his throat and forehead.

Unexpectedly, the person who had the strongest reaction was Bakugo.

"Deku!" He shot up from his chair, almost knocking his pen and water bottle off. The sudden commotion drew everyone's attention. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello to you too, Kacchan," he greeted back with an amused smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "I was bored and I wanted to see how you were doing."

I didn't buy his act. I saw his hand clutch the edges of his shirt before letting go. I noticed his foot shifting an inch or so, gravitating to the direction of the door. He was afraid of Bakugo. But props to him for holding his ground and hiding it almost perfectly.

"You don't belong here," Bakugo growled.

"Debatable." The transfer student shrugged before diverting his attention to the crowd.

"My name's Midoriya Izuku. Deku's just an endearment of mine," he gave a dry chuckle, "Feel free to give me nicknames though, cus I want to be the bestest of friends with everyone."

He made a lazy "peace" sign, two fingers extended in a V-shape, and walked away to an empty seat.

 _That was a weird introduction_. The way he talked made me think he was reciting a script Mina wrote. Was he going for a genki and cutesy appeal? Or was he just being ironic?

"Wait," Aizawa stopped him before he reached the empty table on the second row, "You forgot to inform the class about your quirk."

Midoriya looked at him with an inquisitive head tilt, not seeing the point of doing so.

"It helps with future group activities and stuff."

"We don't need to know anything," Bakugo grumbled from the background, "He's just a fucking quirkless loser."

"Wrong. I'm a hydrokinetic loser," Midoriya corrected, "Big difference."

"Quit yer bullshit. First, you say stupid shit like wanting to be a hero. Fine. But now you're saying you have a quirk? You're being delusional, Deku. And a liar. You're doing nothing but make-"

Midoriya interrupted his rant with a sigh.

"It's disappointing, you know? I haven't seen you in a year and you're still the same."

His eyes softened and his words sounded sad and nostalgic.

"But I guess can't fault you for having a mental disorder."

Bakugo snapped. Explosions erupted and the deafening pop made half the class jump from their seats. Before Aizawa could deactivate his quirk, the bottle on the desk bursted and the water formed a barrier around Bakugo's fiery palms, sealing the combustion away. Midoriya lifted two fingers and the water rose alongside the gesture, causing Bakugo to raise his hands like he was being held at gunpoint.

Midoriya brought one of the two fingers in front of his lips and made a "shh" sound.

"I guess that's good enough of a demonstration. Please take a seat," Aizawa said. He then looked at Bakugo with a frown, "Detention. You too Midoriya."

Midoriya nodded and the water around Bakugo's hands fell, splashing into his shirt and textbook. I heard Bakugo mumble "bastard" under his breath before giving a menacing glare to the green haired boy.

"Before we start today's lecture, any volunteers to give Midoriya a tour of the school."

No one raised their hand. I was tempted to do it, but there were a few reasons holding me back. For one, if I volunteered, I would most likely get on Bakugo's bad side. And that wasn't a situation I wanted to be in.

Giving a tour after school was also such a hassle, especially when I could be doing homework or playing games on the new laptop I bought. I valued my free time too much. I wasn't going to give it up for a boy I haven't even talked to.

Surprisingly, Bakugo raised a hand up.

"I can show him the way out," he volunteered.

"Anyone else asides Bakugo?" Aizawa looked around the class, "Fine. The person who does gets to skip homeroom."

That seemed to do the trick. Everyone eyes lit up with enthusiasm and raised their hands -except for Kirishima, who was sleeping in his own little corner. Before Aizawa could choose a volunteer, I cleared my throat and spoke up.

"As Class Representative," I said with an expression of utmost seriousness, "I should be the one doing the tour. I don't want to burden my fellow classmates with my responsibility."

Unexpectedly, there were a few complaints and dissents about my suggestion.

"That's so unfair! She's abusing her power!"

"Pfft, now she acts like a class rep."

"Why'd she even get votes anyways?"

"Democracy is a scam! The government is controlled by lizard people!"

As annoying as the complaints were, they were all legitimate so I really couldn't argue with them. Except for the last one.

 _Seriously, Shishida? How dare you accuse us innocent lizard people of world domination! We would never do such a thing._ I mentally protested.

The entire class devolved into chaos, arguing who should be the one to give the school tour to the transfer. Poor Midoriya. He was caught in the middle of the squabble, tapping his fingers on his desk with a frantic rhythm looking like he wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere but U.A.

"Enough," Aizawa's command silenced the class, "As much as I hate to admit it, she does have a point.

He looked at me and nodded.

"Tokage, take Midoriya with you. Be back before homeroom ends."

"Aye, sir," I nodded.

I went to Midoriya's seat and smiled at him, guiding him to the exit. Before leaving the door, I turned to my classmates and stuck my tongue out at them with a cheeky grin. _See ya, suckers! Enjoy homeroom for me._

I gave them my most sarcastic salute and left.

* * *

Midoriya and I started our tour on the first floor of the school. I planned on showing him all of the important rooms and the area where his locker was, so we started heading to the computer lab first, the room nearest to Class 1.

"So, you new here?" I asked, trying to initiate a small talk. I immediately regretted my poor choice of words. _Of course he's new here, idiot._

Thankfully, he understood my what I meant.

"No. I've lived in Mustafu my whole life."

"So what made you transfer?"

"Personal reasons," he said with a distant look in his eyes.

I stopped asking after that. I didn't want to be rude and bug him about things he was uncomfortable discussing. I was a talkative person, but I was also aware people needed some space to themselves.

Still, it was boring to walk around in silence. After contemplating for a second or two. I decided to play a game.

Using my quirk, I detached my index finger from my hand. I floated it behind his back and poked him on the shoulder twice before hiding it on his blind spot.

"Can you not."

"Can you not what?" I asked in feigned ignorance.

"Poke me behind the back."

I gave him an inquisitive look and showed him that my hands were inside my pockets, thus making it "impossible" for me to be the one doing so.

When he looked away, I smiled and floated my finger behind his back to poke him once more. Just as it was about to make contact, Midoriya plucked it out of the air, trapping it inside his hand.

"You dropped this," the corner of his mouth quirked upwards while he held my finger for ransom.

Busted. Time to pretend I didn't know anything.

"Oh, thank you! I was looking for that the whole day," I gave a weak laugh, "Where d'ya find it?"

He ignored my question and rolled his eyes. Even so, I saw a glint of humor hidden behind them and spotted a momentary smile before shifting into his usual impassive look.

Seeing as his hands were still open, I reached out with my own to grab my appendage. It was probably easier to float it, but that aspect of my quirk was a bit of a headache. The moment I picked it up, my hands brushed his accidentally and he pulled back like he touched something really hot.

I was hot so I guess the reaction was warranted. Still weird, though.

"What?" I asked, confused.

He coughed to clear his throat.

"Nothing."

We continued our tour and resumed our previous silence. This time I wasn't bored since I was contemplating on happened a few seconds ago. How did he know where my finger was? Was he able to mentally track water or something? If so, then that sounds like a stupidly good quirk.

We arrived to our destination. Room 109. The refuge of loners and nerds.

"Here's the computer lab," I swept my hand in a grandiose gesture, presenting the high end computers of U.A., "You're free to use it anytime. Unless the room's fully booked, of course. There's also not a lot of restrictions on the computers so you can use them for entertainment."

"Cool."

"But the naughtier websites are blacklisted," I smirked at him, "So you have to do those kinds of business somewhere else."

He raised an eyebrow and gave me a quizzical look.

"What do you take me for? A pervert?"

"Most boys are," I raised my index finger in response, "Some just hide it better than others."

He scratched his imaginary beard in contemplation before speaking.

"Can't deny that," he chuckled.

We looked around the room for a few minutes and I showed him how to use his student ID to log in to the computers. After he figured out the basics, we exited the room and went to the direction of the cafeteria.

"So, how are you liking the school so far, Midorino-kun," I asked, intentionally butchering his name out of boredom.

"It's pretty cool," he replied, "Also, don't confuse my name with a pre-evolved pokemon. Please and thank you."

"I thought you wanted us to call you nicknames?"

"True," he nodded, "But couldn't you have given me a cooler one?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno. Anything but Midorino."

The conversation trailed off as we made our way to the empty cafeteria. I noticed as we entered through the doors, he was a step behind. I slowed down to allow him to catch up, but oddly enough, he slowed down as well, keeping the distance between us unchanged.

 _Wait a minute..._ I thought back to how he pulled when my hands grazed his. _Don't tell me he's afraid of girls._

I turned around and approached him. He stepped back, confused.

"Is there something wrong," I asked with a knowing smile on my face.

He pursed his lips, trying to avoid looking into my eyes.

I leaned closer. He looked the other way, trying to maintain space between us. I tried peeking at his expression but he kept hiding his face. I stepped closer and he moved again, creating a back and forth between us, slowly approaching the opposite wall.

Once I got him cornered, I pinned him down with both arms to trap him in place and I saw his cheeks fuming with a deep red colour. Our eyes met and he gave me a look of frustration that bordered on a pout. I returned it with a mischievous smile and a playful pat on his cheek.

 _Maybe he's not so bad_ , I smiled while thinking about how cute he looked when flustered.

* * *

Part II: The Ideal of Bakugo

What did it mean to be a hero? I would always hear some pretentious teacher ask the question in class and a lot of my classmates would spout bullshit responses like "protecting the weak" or "being a good person." Fucking pansy ass losers. They just say that so they could act like some self-righteous prick and pat themselves in the back.

Being a hero wasn't about character or morals. Anyone could have those. There's a lot of stay at home mom's out there who were good people, but you don't see them stopping crime and saving lives. The only saving they did was in the groceries with their coupons and half price sales.

No, being a hero was about strength. Being capable enough to shoulder the burden of a thousand people without even wavering a single step. It didn't matter if you beat your kids or sleep with your best friend's husband. As long as you were strong and willing enough to save others, then you're a hero.

I guess that's why I hated Midoriya. Why I bullied and tormented him. We were cool back then when we were kids. Even when I learned he was quirkless, I didn't mind much since he was smart and had the coolest ideas back then.

I began to hate him when I realized how pathetic he was.

It was kinda weird now that I think about it. We were hanging out in a park with my other friends and Midoriya was out to get us some soft drinks after he lost a bet. Nothing unusual. Then one of the kids with us -I forgot his name- asked a question that would ruin my opinion of Midoriya.

"Hey Kacchan." the fat boy called out to me, balancing on a swing set while I sat on the bench beside it.

"Bakugo," I growled at him. I didn't like the other kids calling me Kacchan.

"Bakugo, yeah my bad," he scratched his head meekly; his tiny wings flapping with anxiety, "Don't you think it's weird how Midoriya doesn't ever get mad."

I glared at him.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"You remember that kid who pushed him? What's his name again."

"Takeshi."

"Ah, yeah, Takeshi," he scratched his neck, "Isn't it weird that Midoriya didn't do anything bout it? He just said sorry and left! If I were him, I woulda sucker punched his ugly face!."

"Right," I murmured.

I spent a few minutes thinking about the question before Midoriya arrived carrying three cans of soft drinks with a big dorky smile on his face. For the first time, I noticed how weird it was. He should be upset. He should be pissed that we made him run a mile away just to get us drinks. Why the hell was he looking like he got a new toy or something?

"Deku," I called, "Come here for a sec."

He walked closer to the bench and, when he was an arms length away from me, I shoved him to the ground, his hands scraping on the asphalt surface, smearing it with blood.

"Kacchan?" His eyes quivered with fear, "W-What was that for?"

"Nothing," I looked down on him, "Just wanted to try something out."

He laughed weakly.

"Jeez, Kacchan. At least give me a warning next time."

That was when I realized how pathetic he was.

He did absolutely nothing. He talked about becoming a hero like All Might, but not once did I saw him work hard for it. He just wrote on his stupid notebook thinking a thesis was enough to get them there. The notes were brilliant, but what use was a notebook when you weren't strong enough to utilize the information.

Then I later noticed how he looked at my quirk with envy hidden behind his admiration. Irritating. I knew what he was thinking. He thought I was lucky. He thought my quirk was the only reason I was strong.

But he could envy my quirk all he wants, but that didn't change the fact I worked hard to be where I was. I practiced martial arts. I spent everyday strengthening my body so I could handle the recoil from the explosions.

Unlike him, I actually did something instead of pitying myself and becoming a pushover.

At least now he didn't have the same dorky smile on his face.

I saw him across the hallway in front of a locker. He closed the locker and pulled a lock from his pocket, using it to secure the door. Before he got to pick up his bag on the floor, I grabbed his shirt collar and slammed him against the metal -the impact creating a loud echoing bang and silencing the conversations around us.

"What game are you playing," I hissed, "Fourteen years I've known you and you've always been quirkless."

He said nothing. He just returned my stare with a hardened look of his own.

There was a circle of people forming around us and most of them were concerned and ready to intervene. One of the Big Three, Tamaki Amajiki, was also in the crowd. He looked hesitant at first, but he swallowed and approached the two of us, ready to break the fight and help Midoriya escape from my grip.

Midoriya looked at the crowd and gave them a reassuring smile, specifically at the senpai who was walking towards us.

"Don't worry," he waved a dismissive hand, "We're just trying to resolve a misunderstanding. Right, Bakugo?"

I growled at him. He was definitely playing me. He wanted me to agree with him so he appeared in control of the situation while simultaneously putting me in a position where I was powerless to disagree.

I clenched my jaw and nodded. As much as I hated letting Midoriya get the upper hand, I didn't want to get in trouble with the big names of U.A. and get another detention from Aizawa.

"You heard him," I addressed the crowd, "Get lost and mind your own goddamn business."

I waited until everyone left. I saw Amajiki look back once more, before sighing and walking the other way.

"Answer me."

"I'm not obligated to."

I pressed him tighter against the locker.

"You gonna talk?" I twisted his collar. "Or are you not gonna do nothing about it and go for the easy way out again."

He grimaced and I saw some irritation in his expression.

"Trust me when I say this, but staying silent and being the better person is far from easy."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Making excuses as always," I snarked with a sarcastic and condescending tone.

"One hundred seventy four thousand and three hundred twenty eight litres," He recited casually, "That's how much water around us I can control. I can easily burst the pipes and drown you. But that doesn't sound too heroic, doesn't it?"

For a moment, no one spoke. I looked into his expressionless green eyes that carried a cold intensity behind them.

But for a quick moment, his eyes quivered and faltered against my stare, losing its hardened edge.

I laughed and let go of his shirt.

It was all pointless. I didn't have to go out of my way to intimidate him because, at the end of the day, he was still the same Midoriya I knew.

He was just another person beneath me.

 **More Author's Note:**

 **1) Something's been bothering me for a while. Since Midoriya and Tokage have such similar hair colour, what are the chances they're secretly related? Oh well. Incest is Wincest, I guess.**

 **2) Next Chapter is gonna be the start of the new arc.**

 **End of Origins.**


	4. Validation 2-01

**Author's Note: Belated Happy Valentines! I hope you guys had a good one. To those who spent it single and lonely like I did, my hearts reach out to you. I'm apologize for the late update this time and I'll try to write the next chapter faster. Enjoy the first chapter of Arc 2!**

Validation 2.01:

I felt like I lived my life stuck in a perpetual dream. A sequence of mind numbing repetition where each passing day was the same, but more tiresome than the last. I was moving forward but ultimately going nowhere. I was stagnating. Slowly consumed by the routine I hated while finding comforting in the predictability of it all.

I was thankful I almost died.

I wanted to believe a part of me did that day. At the face of a nightmare, with claws tearing into my throat, I woke up a new person left with nothing but memories of a previous life and a feeling of weightlessness after a long winded fall.

Life was changing at an unprecedented pace. I was finally living my dream, slowly inching down the path of heroism.

No one told me it would be this boring.

Don't get me wrong, I was thankful to be in my situation. But three days in, it was more or less the same as the previous one. I woke up, went to school, and tried my best to survive. For the most part, I was able to keep up with my classes since there wasn't a large deviation from the curriculum of Mustafu High and U.A..

Math was a breeze. Foundational Heroes Studies was a glorified ethics and law course. And modern literature was akin to a book club. The only problem I had was English and its nonsensical alphabet.

If I were to name the biggest difference, I'd say it was the people. For one, the students here in U.A. -most of them, at least- were upbeat and had a hopeful air around them, unlike most Mustafu citizen's nowadays. I felt out of place. I tried talking to a few of them during lunch, but I was uncomfortable around them, feeling like the fifth wheel of an established clique, where each member had found their niche and role within. I was redundant, to say the least.

I was even more uncomfortable around Tokage. She was... well, I didn't know what to think of her. At first glance, she was your typical friendly high school girl. But during the tour, I noticed the intelligence glimmering behind her eyes, watching my every move like she was picking me apart and trying to find all my secrets and insecurities. Unsettling.

Then there was Bakugo, the bridge between the past and present. I hated how I was still afraid of him. I thought I was stronger; more capable of standing up to him. I tried to steel myself, but a lifetime of fear and admiration were deeply rooted in my instincts; harder to quell than a mere habit.

It wasn't until Friday morning when something exciting finally happened.

"Suit up," Aizawa entered the room, not even greeting us good morning, "Meet me at Grounds B."

He dropped the papers he was carrying on to his desk and left the way he came, walking with lumbering steps -his feet almost dragging on the floor. The class was stunned with the unexpected order but they snapped into action at the sound of the door closing.

Everyone stood up and followed him out the room. The sound of exciting chatter buzzed in the air as the bustling students gathered into their little in groups while following the general direction of the collective. I followed them too, confused. I had no clue on where we were going or what we were about to do.

I found Kirishima lagging behind and approached him. I poked his shoulder his twice and he looked at me with a question plastered on his face. I swallowed. My eyes scanned the floor, nervous at the idea of initiating a conversation with a person I've only seen from afar.

"So," I started, drawing out the vowel, "what's this whole Grounds B thing?"

He beamed at me and put an arm around my shoulder. _Too close!_

"You see, youngling," he spoke with a voice deeper than usual, sweeping his hands in the air as if presenting a majestic scenery, "The Grounds B is a magical place where we -ow!"

He was interrupted by a whack on the back of his head.

"You're scaring him," Ashida scolded. She looked at me with an apologetic expression, "Sorry bout that. He's just happy cus he's not the clueless guy in the room."

"Mina!" Kirishima whined, "Stop bullying me!"

I watched the two argue with each other. From what I've heard, the two went to the same middle school and were the only couples in the class. Their energy was infectious, seeing how comfortable they were with each other and how they bickered like they weren't afraid of saying the wrong things to each other. Their relationship was genuine. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

I coughed loud enough to cut through their bickering.

"Umm, you were saying Kirishima-san?"

"Right!" He thumped a fist on his palm, "Basically, Grounds B is a place where students pretend to be heroes and beat each other up. The stuff we do there is always fun."

"We get to wear our costumes too!"

Ashido raised her arms in celebration. When she noticed she was the only one, she grabbed Kirishima's hand and mine, raising them up in the air with a jump to continue her cheer.

Kirishima noticed my blush and gave me a disapproving glare. I chuckled nervously. I was still not used to girls touching me or even being near them, so Ashido's touchiness was a new experience for me..

"C'mon guys, we're falling behind," I informed the two.

We sped up our walk to catch up with the rest. Just when we were about to turn left to the locker rooms, I realized a crucial oversight and stopped in my tracks. Kirishima noticed my reluctance.

"Something wrong?"

How could I've been so stupid. I was studying in a hero school for almost a week and I forgot about one of the most iconic part being a hero.

"I don't have a costume."

"No problem," he dismissed with a wave of a hand, "U.A. has a hella cool collection. Just go to the gym supplies and you'll find a locker with spare masks and tracksuits."

I blinked at him. I didn't know where the gym supply room was. I blamed Tokage for being an incompetent tour guide and a sexual deviant. The last remark was unrelated, but I was a petty person. Thankfully, Kirishima was an individual who spec'd in social awareness, noticing my lack of knowledge.

"You know what, I'll just show you where."

He led me to the door past the locker rooms for males and females, down the hall by the nearest intersection. We entered. There was a lot of stuff cluttered around the supply room and the sport equipments were dusty from the lack of use. We approached a locker and Kirishima opened, showcasing the collection of tracksuits and generic domino masks.

"What d'ya think?" He nudged my sides with an elbow.

"I think it's," I paused, trying to find the right word, "boring. They're black tracksuits with white stripes -do you want me to look like a convict or something?"

"You already got the murderer vibe down," he joked and I ignored it with an exasperated eye roll. "Besides, if you don't like it, you can always go in your uni," he giggled, "Or worse, naked."

"Fine," I grumbled while taking a tracksuit of the hamper, "I'll wear the stupid tracksuit. Happy?"

He beamed at me. What a cruel person he was, enjoying my misery while being all cute and innocent.

I couldn't help but smile with him.

* * *

We stepped out the door of the waiting area and I took a moment to appreciate the surroundings. Grounds B was a defunct city frozen in time. The buildings were unused but clean and the streets were silent and empty with nothing to disturb the eerie stillness. No bird flying, no cicadas chirping, and not even the scurrying of a squirrel could be seen.

The only movement was from the shifting clouds carried by the wind, with sundrops peaking through every so often. There was also the group of students moving a lot. I studied their costumes, taking notes on how to make mine.

Suffice to say, my current costume was pitiful compared to everyone else's. I saw all sorts of styles, varying from fully covered outfits to revealing spandex suits that accentuated one's figure or exposed a lot of skin. The main offenders of decency were Yaoyorozu and Tokage with their very... tight costumes. I would be lying if I said I didn't get the appeal. I was, after all, a healthy teenage boy.

Tokage spotted me staring at her and gave me a toothy grin and a sly wink. I frowned back. I still haven't forgiven her for pinning me against the wall. I would get back at her, one day. As for how, I'll think of the details later.

Aizawa cleared his throat and the voices fizzled out before disappearing into a dull silence. He walked in front of the crowd, carrying a wooden board with papers on top. He addressed everyone with a nod.

"For today's class," he announced, his tired voice piercing through the silence, "we'll enact a scenario most heroes have to go through in their careers. A hostage crisis."

He paced around.

"The rules are simple. There will be teams of two: heroes vs villains. The main objective of the heroes is to free the hostage and deliver them to the safe zone -which inside the waiting area."

He pointed to the building beside the Grounds B entrance/exit.

"And the villains will try to stop them from doing so until the time runs out or the heroes are all out of action."

He scanned the crowd and checked if anyone was confused about the rules.

"To spice things up, we'll be using props," he reached for the duffle bag beside him, pulling out a cheap plastic gun and a walkie talkie.

"This thing," he waved the prop casually, "is a gun. If the trigger is pulled, then both teams will lose half of the points they've accumulated prior. Back to zero, but this time, the roles are reversed. The heroes will prioritize in capture and the villains will want to escape to the safe zone."

His eyes scanned the students checking if everyone understood the rules.

"I'll be marking you based on your judgement, improvisation, and your ability to adapt. If you score lower than a fifty, you fail."

He looked into the board he was carrying, reading -what I assumed was- the order of the teams.

"For the first round, Tokoyami leads the villain team," he nodded at Tokoyami, "You'll be facing against Bakugo, so choose your partner wisely."

Tokoyami surveyed the crowd with an intense gaze. He looked serious, determination burning in his eyes with a need to prove himself. He was halfway through the class, before his eyes settled on the back, looking directly into mine.

"Midoriya."

I perked up at the sound of my name. I wasn't expecting to be chosen since I was a new student whose abilities were unknown. But a part of me was relieved. I wasn't the last person chosen, which was a first time for me.

Bakugo's jaw clenched. He was confident, almost blindingly so, but he was also intelligent enough to recognize the threat I posed to his quirk. He scanned the crowd of eager students before his eyes settled on a person I couldn't see. His lips curled into a grin.

"Yaoyorozu."

The crowd parted and the girl stepped out to stand beside her partner. Realizing I should've done the same earlier, I walked through the bodies of students with a slightly flustered look on my face. _Why are social cues so complicated?_

"Ok, I'll give you three minutes to discuss strategies. The rest of you, out." He made a shooing motion by flicking his fingers at them. The students complied with a half hearted agreement and scurried to the waiting area where they couldn't interfere with the activity.

Once Grounds B was cleared of the other students, the two groups collected their props and parted ways. I held a walkie talkie on my left hand and a gun on the other.

I greeted Tokoyami -which he returned with a curt "good morning"- and the two of us weaved our way down the empty streets of Grounds B and hid behind a corner of an unused building. We formed a huddle, distancing ourselves from listening ears.

"Give me a run down of your quirk," he went straight to the point, "Anything you haven't mentioned in class that I should know about?"

I scratched my chin, trying to remember what I said on my introduction. God, four days felt like a long time ago.

"I can sense water in a hundred meter radius," I explained, "Gives me unparalleled awareness of the area.."

"I see," he went into deep thought and after a moment, he spoke, "Any plans?"

"Aren't you the leader?"

He shook his head with a disappointed look.

"I'm not very bright," he admitted, "And as a leader, I need to admit my flaws, recognize them, and relegate the work to someone more capable."

 _Respectable,_ I thought. Maybe I should reevaluate my first impressions of him. Thinking of him as a chuuni loner didn't give him enough credit for the introspection he carried beneath his words.

"Okay," I complied, formulating a plan for the activity. I wanted to make it as simple as possible to reduce the chances of errors. After a moment, I continued, "I'll stay with the hostage and you'll try to ambush them. I'll use my walkie talkie to guide you to their blindspot."

"Two against one?" he pointed out, doubt evident in his words, "I'll most likely lose."

"Don't worry, I can still support you from far away."

As a show of evidence, I pointed to the puddle from a distance, launching it into the air and dispersing it into mist. The sunlight hit the tiny droplets, forming a tiny rainbow that dissipated shortly afterwards. _What's with me and making rainbows?_ I thought, slightly amused.

"Sounds good," he commented, "Any questions before we go back?"

I didn't have any important questions, but there was one that was pestering me, nibbling at the back of my mind.

"Why me? I haven't been here for a few days and you barely know me."

He pondered on the question. Instead of answering, he walked ahead and went down the alleyway. Just as he was about to reach the main road, he stopped.

"A gamble," he looked back, "My quirk is weak to Bakugo's so I picked someone who countered his."

Then with an nervous quiver in his voice, he whispered.

"Hopefully I'm right."

From no specific location, I heard Aizawa's voice from the speakers call out to us, "Three minutes is up!"

We went back to the initial spot where our class gathered for the debriefing, and saw Aizawa standing there with the other team.

He swept his arm, gesturing for us to follow him.

Tokoyami and I went inside a decrypt and worn down building, walking down the twisting corridors behind Aizawa. He led us to a room upstairs, empty and featureless except for the wooden chair in the center.

There was a large window on the left wall to the door, overlooking the main street where the heroes would most likely enter the building.

Aizawa pulled out a headband with a surface covered in a red plastic reflector. He sat down and wrapped it around his head, locking the straps together so it wouldn't fall to the slightest of motions.

"This is a sensor," he said, "When you shoot the gun at it, the headband will light up and broadcast an announcement."

He pulled a microphone underneath his shirt and brought it underneath his lips.

"Begin," his words carrying throughout the hidden speakers of Grounds B.

Tokoyami looked back one last time, nodded, and left the corridor with hurried steps. I was left alone with nothing but my thoughts and a silent teacher who was trying his best to catch up on his sleep.

I repeated the plan in my head, trying to calm my unsteady heart. _Breathe_. I clutched my walkie talkie and pressed the button for communication. Once I heard Tokoyami pick it up, I spoke.

"They're outside, standing on the main entrance of the building. No movement. They might be planning something so approach with cau-"

The walkie talkie crackled and a jolt of electricity stung my ear. The ominous sound of static buzzed due to the lack of signal, leaving me with a palpable sense of dread. What the hell? I focused on my watersense, trying to assess the situation outside the room.

The moment I lost contact with Tokoyami, the opposing team ran to the eastward side of the building, forgoing the main entrance. Yaoyorozu stopped near the wall and began cutting up a hole to create a new avenue of entry. On the other hand, Tokoyami was still moving towards the main entrance, completely passing by the enemy group. Our plan was already falling apart.

Tokoyami stopped on his tracks, trying to figure out what went wrong with his device. After a few moments of prodding around, he discarded it and continued his path without hesitation. I had to do something.

I willed the water around me to coalesce into a sphere and I sent it down the halls to intercept Tokoyami's location.

The sphere of water reached him near the main entrance where he was surveying the outside street, hiding within the shadows. I shaped the water into a hand and poked him on the back. He flinched and spun around, ready to attack, but relaxed once he saw the culprit.

I changed the shape of the water into an arrow and floated it, leading him outside the building, to a route that would take him behind the opposing team.

While I was directing my partner, I also gathered all the water within my domain. From the puddles scattered across Grounds B, to the moisture from the air, down to the water absorbed by the ground. I divided each gallon of water into a sphere, creating nine spheres in total. Nine hundred twenty three gallons to be exact. I floated them above the other group. They were almost done carving the entrance and Bakugo was waiting quietly, his foot tapping with impatience.

I waited too for Tokoyami to reach the vicinity. I needed him to capitalize on the chaos of the attack and capture Yaoyorozu, eliminating the wild card from the equation.

Bakugo spotted the ambush, judging how he tilted his head up and jumped at the sight of water. I had no choice but to attack. I solidified the spheres and launched them at high speeds, directing most of the ammunition on Bakugo.

He rolled away and ran for cover, but one of the sphere crashed on his chest and sent him rolling across the pavement. Yaoyarozu was quick to react. She formed a rope in her hand and lassoed Bakugo's arm, pulling him away from the danger. Before I could shoot her, she raised a hand facing out to the sky and a torrent of gas erupted, intercepting the remaining water spheres.

The moment the spheres touched the gas, the water disappeared out of my control and bubbled into a foam like substance. I panicked. Realizing I had no means of countering her chemicals, I retreated the remaining water and gathered it into the hostage room. Barely a gallon left.

 _I'm leaving it to you, Tokoyami._

I watched Tokoyami jump into the fray, his shadows snaking towards the defenceless figure of Yaoyorozu. But Bakugo had recover. He lunged, striking the shadow with an explosion, following it with an over handed swing on Tokoyami. Tokoyami moved out of the way, his feet skidding on the ground.

However, he didn't notice Yaoyorozu behind him and he was hit on the head by a metal staff.

He collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

Our chances of winning was slowly plummeting to zero. _Shit!_

I gripped the gun, my knuckles turning white. _What to do, what to do._ I gritted my teeth and paced around the room.

I was tempted to pull the trigger and escape, but I knew it wasn't the right time for that. I had to wait. I had to be level headed and approach the situation with a plan and a measure of vigilance. I closed my eyes, my body shuddering as I exhaled. _Breathe._ When I opened them, my mind was clearer and I had an idea of what to do.

First, I made a mental note of where Tokoyami's body was. He was lying near the east side of the building, farthest from the waiting area which was located west of Grounds B. That made things harder for me.

With a frustrated groan, I threw the gun to the air, catching it with the water I kept inside the room. I exited through the door, leaving the water and the gun behind with the hostage.

Second, I checked where Bakugo's team was, making sure I didn't run into them. They were circling from the north side stairway, so I went down the southern exit and made a roundabout to where Tokoyami was. I narrowly avoided the two.

The hero team was close. They would reach the hostage in a minute or so.

I ran. It was difficult, trying to run silently while doing something else from a distance. Back in the hostage room, I willed the water to carry the gun. I made sure the gun was pointed at the sensors behind Aizawa's head and the water was curled around the trigger.

Bakugo's team entered the hostage room. Noticing the lack of villains, they stopped and surveyed the room for potential traps. On most circumstances, their caution would be rewarded. Right now, however, it only gave me more time to escape.

After clearing the hostage room, Yaoyorozu gave Bakugo a thumbs up, indicating the lack of tricks and traps. They didn't enough notice the gun floating behind Aizawa's head.

I exited the building, dashing as fast as I can to my teammate. I found him, lying beside the carved out wall.

Yaoyorozu saw the gun. She spun to inform her teammate, but she was too late.

I pulled the trigger. A sharp, high pitched signal rang across the area.

" _Hostage has been eliminated. Heroes, proceed on capturing villains."_

I lifted Tokoyami in my arms and made a dash to the safe zone. I was sure he wouldn't appreciate being princess carried, but I couldn't care less about his pride, given how dire the situation was and how close we were to failing.

I was only a few meters away from the hostage building, when I heard the sound of glass shattering.

Bakugo leapt outside from the second story window, using his explosions to propel himself in the air like a heat seeking missile. Yaoyorozu, on the other hand, was lagging behind, scaling down the building with a man made ladder. I summoned the water from the hostage area and levitated it through the broken window. It was barely a litre.

Yaoyorozu saw the small sphere of water and blocked it with her foaming gas. The water foamed and fizzled, falling into the hot concrete ground.

I felt a spike of pain as Bakugo's fist buried itself into my back. I was sent flying. Tokoyami's limp body falling out of my grasp, tumbling down the street with me.

I contorted my body to reduce the impact. The moment I managed to get up on my feet, Bakugo was already in the motion of throwing a right hook into my stomach. His fist connected and I was sent tumbling on the ground. He waited. He was eyeing me with a sadistic grin, challenging me to stand up once more.

So I did. With shaky legs, I pushed myself off the ground and adopted a defensive position, studying Bakugo's movements. I closed my eyes. I was seeing through my watersense, feeling the motion around me. I felt his right foot shifting. He was about to charge again. I sensed the small movements in his right arm and his legs, the tension indicating the burst of movement that was about to happen. He launched forward, creating disturbances in the air.

He was predictable. He favoured his right side way too much and his attacks were too linear.

But predictability was hard to avoid when the person faster than you. I moved left to dodge his overhanded swing, but he was quick to use his explosion and change his initial momentum. His left arm caught me in my rib. I fell, once again. This time, coughing out blood.

Yaoyorozu finally caught up to the fight. She was making some ropes to tie us in, but was stopped by Bakugo from doing anything further.

"Don't you dare butt in," Bakugo warned her, "I'll handle Midoriya on my own."

He walked to my fallen figure.

"Done already," he asked with a voice almost polite. "I knew you were a weakling, but I didn't expect you to fucking bend over after a few exchanges. I can't even laugh at you... I'm just bored. Disappointed."

His condescending tone struck a nerve. I was fine when he called me names and berated me, but hearing him so sincere with genuine dismay ignited a fire within me.

"Are you kidding me," I coughed out some blood and saliva, "I could take fifty more of these pansy ass, piss sissy love taps you call punches."

I was babbling. My mind was a jumbled mess and I was pulling out words that didn't even make grammatical sense. _I swear it sounded a lot cooler in my head._

I stood up again. I adopted my usual defensive stance, waiting for Bakugo to make the first move. We stared at each other's eyes.

Without any warning, he accelerated and threw a strong left. I blocked it with my left forearm and used my right to punch him on his chest. He moved out the way, but my knuckle grazed him and left a small red mark where it hit.

"One." I counted with a tired pant, darkness creeping in on the edges of my vision. I forced myself to smile.

"That's more like it," he grinned, baring his teeth with a vicious, feral look in his eyes.

Our match continued on for a while. I repeatedly dodged his attacks and parried the ones that landed, reducing the impact. I landed a few hits here and there, but none of them affected him too much. As time went on, signs of power overuse manifested and I was stabbed with a sharp pain in my head.

 _I can't lose._

I stumbled due to my headache and lost my footing on a small rock. Bakugo gave a devilish sneer. Excitement. Glee. Satisfaction. He twisted his body and delivered an underhanded swing directed towards my stomach. His fist buried into my flesh and I was sent flying a few feet away, my head hitting the ground awkwardly.

"What's the matter Midoriya," Bakugo walked towards me, taking his time to savour the moment. "Ya still have twenty-seven left."

 _I can't lose._

I pushed the ground with shaky arms -for what seemed like the hundredth time- and stood up with unstable legs. My vision was blurry. It would've been easier if I escaped and allowed Tokoyami to get captured. He was a hopeless case anyways and dragging his limp body would just increase the chances of receiving terrible marks.

I _really_ wanted to run. But there was another reason why I stood up while gritting my bloody teeth; a reason surpassing that of petty insecurities and my pathetic inferiority complex. A reason worth more than academic marks.

I wanted to become a hero. _And a hero never loses._

"Come at me, Kacchan!" I yelled and slammed both my knuckles together.

Blow for blow. I stood strong. I used my power to dodge his explosion filled punches and I countered with a few of my own. My fists started to hurt. The headache still lingered on, growing sharper by the second. Even so, I remained standing. Taking pride in the standing toe to toe with the person I once feared.

"Die!" Bakugo yelled.

I sidestepped and let the punch graze my forearm. It hurt. I swung my left arm to his temples, but he dodged it by a hair. Bakugo followed the punch with a left handed jab directed to my face, but I blocked it by shielding with both arms. I backed off, trying to regain my balance. Bakugo lunged again with reckless abandon, throwing a flurry of punches with pinpoint precision. Head. Stomach. Shoulders. Those were the areas Bakugo was aiming at, so after receiving a few, they became somewhat predictable and easier to block.

"Thirty-eight," I counted in between wheezes.

Bakugo and Yaoyorozu were silent and they stared at me with an odd expression. I saw concern mixed in with a hint of respect. I was close to fainting. My left eyelid was shut close and I felt bruises all over my body, making even the smallest movement unbearable. As much as I didn't want to admit, I was going to lose. But I stood strong.

Loud explosions erupted and crackled. I looked up and saw Bakugo's palm flaring up with brilliant lightshow, his glare matching the heat and intensity. I felt a tingle of fear in my spine. I tried pushing those emotions away, but to no avail, they were too strong to keep at bay. My temple throbbed with a vengeance and I was left struggling to move my legs due to the fatigue and pain I accumulated throughout the match. I was screwed.

Think. What did I have to do? The nearest water source was eight hundred ninety three meters away. The only real option I had left was using my other power -the one I have been avoiding due to how weak it was. I concentrated. I willed the vibrations to gather in my fist.

A wave of nausea hit me. A jarring stab of sea sickness that almost made lose balance and heave. I steeled myself.

When I opened my eyes, I saw my fist glowing a vibrant white and a shrill, ear piercing sound rang in the street. The vibrations were way stronger than before. My powers were going in overdrive.

Bakugo leaped forward, using his explosions to rotate him in the air. When he reached the apex of his flight, he reeled his arm and threw out a vicious, quirk-powered punch to my stomach. It was hot and excruciatingly painful. I gritted my teeth and retaliated with a right hook of my own. The world screamed and the turmac cracked into a million pieces. Light filled my eyes, blinding me. The ringing in my eardrums drowned all form of sound. And the pain numbed my sense of touch.

The only thing I felt before I lost consciousness was a serene sensation. An impression of weightlessness from a long winded fall.

* * *

 **More Author's Note:**

 **1) This is the closest we'll get to canon. Hopefully my version of the Battle Arc Trial didn't feel too similar to the other renditions.**

 **2) Please point out typos and nitpicks in the reviews. I really appreciate learning from them! Or don't... it's not like I can force you to do my job lol**

 **3) BOTTOM TEXT**


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